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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23746879">This Mission Debrief is Going to Be The Worst</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TellMeNoAgain/pseuds/TellMeNoAgain'>TellMeNoAgain</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Avengers UnPacked [9]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, F/F, F/M, M/M, Mental Instability, Multi, Omega Verse, Scenting</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 15:42:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,929</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23746879</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TellMeNoAgain/pseuds/TellMeNoAgain</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Look, people are still encouraging me to have fun in this A/B/O AU, so that's what I'm doing.  You haters leave me alone.  It's playtime.</p><p>~~~</p><p>Sam says, “So we’re staying up until they get back, right?”</p><p>“Oh, yeah,” grunts Harley.</p><p>“Good.  Glad we agree,” responds the beta.  “Can’t help but notice it’s a lot harder on the sidelines.  Usually we’re all hands on deck and I’m out there with them.”</p><p>“Yeah, or it’s patrols,” agrees Harley.  “Easy to let ‘em go on patrols.”</p><p>“Don’t normally see you this worked up about our missions,” says Sam, curiously, his voice threaded with concern.</p><p>Harley doesn’t tense, but it takes conscious effort to not tense up.  Sam is his heat partner, he reminds himself. He trusts Sam. “Well, this one’s my fault,” he tells Sam. “I’m the one who worked the data, I’m the one who, you know, egged Peter on the first round.  This’s all on me, really.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bruce Banner/Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, Darcy Lewis/Jane Foster/Thor, Pepper Potts/Steve Rogers/Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Avengers UnPacked [9]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1623790</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>107</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>This Mission Debrief is Going to Be The Worst</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So, this is what happens when I read a recommended story that turns into reading TEN A/B/O fics, find out that there are no RULES for this shit, and decide, "Well, fuck it, if everyone's having fun in this sandbox, I'm going to, too."</p><p>You don't have to like it, I promise. But I had a whole lot of fun writing it.</p><p>Beta'd by my brave jf4m and mindwiped, who are easily the most courageous people on the planet, because I threw this at them and said JESUS CHRIST I DON'T EVEN KNOW. I'M SORRY, and then they corrected my spelling and caught my errors like the pros they are, anyway.</p><p>I've put links to the fics I read to learn about A/B/O in the end notes of the first story.</p><p>Every remaining mistake and all the broken things about the rules of this AU belongs to me. Me and 3 AM, baby.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harley’s not pacing, he’s doing laps.  Sam is with him, so it’s not even all that weird, him doing laps, waiting for the ones on the mission to get done and come home.  Tony’s upstairs, on the guest floor, being viciously polite with the Scarlet-Witch-My-Name-Is-<em>Wanda-</em>If-You-Please-<em>Iron-Man</em>. God, she’s omega to the bone and full of pup and they’re probably killing each other, good luck Bruce.</p><p>He’s down here doing laps because this whole mess was his, like, it’s pretty much all on him, all the research, all the- the decision to move the timetable up, that was him opening his big fat mouth and sharing his theories, so it’s all on him. Steve and Natasha are out there with Peter all whored up, and that’s Harley’s fault.  </p><p>God, his mama would not be proud of this story.  Nobody in their right might would be proud of this story.  <em> He’s </em> not proud of this story.  He’ll just hide it from her and hope it never comes up on the news.</p><p>Sam says, “So we’re staying up until they get back, right?”</p><p>“Oh, yeah,” grunts Harley.</p><p>“Good.  Glad we agree,” responds the beta.  “Can’t help but notice it’s a lot harder on the sidelines.  Usually we’re all hands on deck and I’m out there with them.”</p><p>“Yeah, or it’s patrols,” agrees Harley.  “Easy to let ‘em go on patrols.”</p><p>“Don’t normally see you this worked up about our missions,” says Sam, curiously, his voice threaded with concern.</p><p>Harley doesn’t tense, but it takes conscious effort to not tense up.  Sam is his heat partner, he reminds himself. He trusts Sam. “Well, this one’s my fault,” he tells Sam. “I’m the one who worked the data, I’m the one who, you know, egged Peter on the first round.  This’s all on me, really.”</p><p>There’s easy silence as they turn another corner in the labyrinth of the hallways.  “He did volunteer,” starts Sam.</p><p>“Sure,” interrupts Harley, because he’s had that talk with himself plenty, he recognizes what he’s feeling isn’t exactly logical.  “You tell that to my mama, see how far it gets you.”</p><p>“You’ll feel better when it’s done,” declares Sam.  “Ten bucks says you’re proud of your work when it’s done.”</p><p>“Done and everyone’s okay,” amends Harley.  </p><p>“Yeah,” concedes Sam.  They walk in silence for a little longer and then Sam offers, “Hey, Tony’s piloting the Mark VIII, want to go bother him while he works?”</p><p>“Yes,” says Harley firmly.  Tony can play the video feed from the Mark VIII, too, and let them check in on Peter.</p><p>“Me too,” interjects Clint, and they whirl to find him standing just behind them.  He shrugs, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Got bored,” he says, as if this explains snooping around and scaring the shit out of them.  Harley considers the beta. It kind of does, actually.</p><p>Sam sighs, “Yeah, you too.  You’re an absolute lunatic. Just start a conversation like a normal person, ‘Hey, can I join you?’ Like that.”</p><p>“Hey can I join you,” deadpans Clint to Harley.</p><p>“Can I stop you?” asks Harley doubtfully.</p><p>“Nope,” laughs Clint.</p><p>“Why’d you ask then?” Harley says scornfully, lips twitching.</p><p>“Sam wants me to be more normal,” Clint informs him, the smile still twitching his lips.</p><p>“Sam wants a lot of things he’s not gonna get,” Harley tells him seriously.</p><p>“You can say that again,” sighs Sam.  He gestures in front of him. “Let’s go.  Lab. Tony.”</p><p>Clint elbows Harley hard as he passes.  Harley grunts and pushes him back. Messing with Clint is something to do to help the time pass, anyway.  And Clint started it.</p><p> </p><p>~~~</p><p> </p><p>Tony glances up from the screen and does a double take.  “How the hell did you get a black eye?” he demands, completely distracted from the very boring walking that is happening in New Jersey at this exact moment.  It’s been like three hours of Tony watching them just walk, and while on the one hand, yay! no bloodshed, on the other, holy hell is observation-from-the-sidelines <em>boring</em>.  Not even zooming in on his mate's perfect ass or fabulous pecs is helping alleviate the boredom of watching them walk and walk and walk and so this interruption is heaven-sent.  Well.  Except for the pup's black eye.  Didn't see that one coming.</p><p>“Clint’s an asshole,” spits Harley, lower lip out in what he probably thinks is a jutting jaw clench of manliness but what actually is 100% pout.  It looks good on him, but then, well, omega male. Everything looks good on omega males.</p><p>“Well, yeah,” drawls Tony.  “What’s that got to do with the black eye?”</p><p>“I barely touched him, <em> he </em> fell onto <em> my </em> fist,” announces Clint, as he enters the room juggling a dish towel around a handful of ice.</p><p>Behind him stalks Sam, arms crossed over his chest.  Tony’s eyebrows fly, he can feel it, just like he can feel his mouth dropping open slightly with surprise.  Sam rolls his eyes and sighs at Tony, “The worst part is, they’re both telling the truth.”</p><p>Tony shakes his head.  “Well, you better hope they come home distracted by their prize, because you literally just got over shock sick less than a month ago and they’re all of them going to be eager to hover over someone.  You’re just lucky Thor is chatting up Wanda right now.”</p><p>Harley mutters something unintelligible that turns into a hiss when Clint gently places the dishtowel on his face.  “Ow,” he whines, falling back in exaggerated injury onto a nearby bench.</p><p>“Shush, you big baby,” Clint says, but Tony notes his hands are incredibly gentle as they stroke Harley’s shoulder, in a soothing gesture the beta’s probably not even aware he’s making.</p><p>“‘S cold,” whines Harley, and yeah, he’s adorable right now, hissing and whining up at the beta, pouting just a bit, in his bare feet and sweatpants.  Tony should start drawing up a short list of alphas good enough for Harley. Going through the list of available alphas in his head, he can’t think of a single one.  He narrows his eyes because Peter’s list is very short but it’s <em> existent</em>.  It can’t be that much harder to make a list for Harley.</p><p>“It’s supposed to be cold, numbnuts, it’s going to help with the swelling,” grunts Clint.  “If you’d wear shoes, you wouldn’t trip on that carpet,” he adds under his breath. “Or if you’d start training with us.  I bet we could cure the tripping after a good six months.”</p><p>“I’m not doing six months of crazy stretches and shit,” says Harley firmly.  “Y’all can throw away the damn accent rug first.”</p><p>“You tripped on a rug and fell into Clint’s fist,” repeats Tony, looking at the both of them in disbelief.</p><p>“Yes, kinda.  There’s, I mean, we were horsing around, just puppy play, really,” says Harley, a gentle crimson glow rising in his cheeks as Tony stares at him.  “And then I tripped him. You know, it was a good move,” he hisses at Clint.</p><p>“It was a dumbass WWF thing!  It’s so bad you fell on your ass beside me, no one in their right mind would have- that was not a move, that was a disaster,” huffs Clint back at him.  “You didn’t even execute it right,” he snaps after a short breath.  </p><p>“I didn’t have ropes,” protests Harley.  Sam rubs his face with his hands, shaking it.</p><p>Tony can’t help it, the splutter just falls out of him, “You were wrestling with the ex-carnie?  Harls, no. That’s so wildly redneck.” On second thought, he can probably think of like twelve alphas who would be perfect for Harley, but he wouldn’t trust any of them with a dog, much less his precious adorable pouty ommy.  One of them wrestles alligators. Harley would love it and it would be <em> so bad </em> for him.</p><p>“Hey, what’s wrong with wrestling carnies?” says Clint, his lips twitching.  </p><p>Harley glares at Tony, muttering, “I can wrestle who I want to.”</p><p>“Yeah, let’s see if you still think that after the alphas all go crazy over your new eye color,” declares Tony.  “Because if you think-”</p><p>“Hey, they’re leaving Peter,” Sam interrupts, pointing at the vid feed.  “In an alley, are you kidding me, that’s the plan? Leave the omega in an alley?  A dark alley?”</p><p>“Oh, hey,” snickers Clint, stepping forward.  Tony’s eye is caught, too, because is that- are they-  “That’s… Alpha’s a little worked up, huh? I suppose, walking around with Peter all scented up.  I mean, kid's not due for a heat for a couple weeks yet, thank God, wouldja look at that...”</p><p>Tony’s jaw drops for the second time in five minutes as he watches Steve maul the kid.  He closes it and rolls his eyes. “Oh for fuck’s sake. He’s going to be impossible for a <em> week </em> with guilt.”  <em> Just what this week needed. </em></p><p>Tony pilots the Mark VIII closer to the scene, noting that Natasha is securing the outer perimeter, already moving to circle around the alley in a two-block radius.  Steve sticks closer, looks tenser. He’s going to be <em> impossible</em>.  Tony can read the guilt in his stance from <em> here</em>.</p><p>Nothing happens for several long moments.  Nothing <em> happens</em>.  There’s a shift of motion well inside the perimeter and one of the shadows detaches itself from a house, which is freaky, because even the suit had missed how close the guy was standing to the away team. And then, suddenly Tony’s watching the man who murdered his mom, murdered his mom and took out Howard, murdered his mom and took out Howard and has killed so many other people, he’s watching him walk towards the alley where Tony’s pup is standing.  Holy fuck, this was a phenomenally bad idea. Just, just a really bad idea. Why did no one stop this idea?</p><p>“This may be the worst idea I’ve ever had,” says Tony faintly.</p><p>“I’m getting Pepper down here, you need support,” says Sam firmly, and then he says, “JARVIS, you copy?”</p><p>“Indeed, Beta Samwise Gamgee,” intones JARVIS and Tony can’t even quirk a smile because he has no idea who hacked JARVIS and normally that would be amazing, but the guy who killed his mom has just disappeared into an alley with <em> Tony’s sweetest pup </em> and somehow Tony was completely unprepared for this even though he’s spent all day planning for this mission.  How is this the plan? What the hell? Why did no one stop him? Why isn’t- someone should be stopping this-</p><p>“Tony?” asks Steve over the comms.  Steve should probably be focused on not-the-Tower.  Tony should reassure him and get the man back to work.  Tony says nothing and Steve continues, “What’s up?”</p><p>“Nothing, sugar pop,” responds Tony brightly, automatically.  He’s Howard’s son. Stark men are made of iron. “Just, you know, watching half of my hopes and dreams for the next generation fall into the hands of the man who completely destroyed my life, that’s all.  Well, <em> walk </em> into the hands.  Voluntarily. Who let my stupid idea get picked, again?  We have systems in place to prevent the stupid ideas from getting picked, who- who failed on this one?”</p><p>“Right,” says Steve firmly.  “You’re freaking out. JARVIS, get Pep in there now.”</p><p>“Ms. Potts is already enroute from the elevator,” JARVIS says, and doesn’t sound miffed at all.  “I have alerted Alpha Thor, as well. Omega Stark’s vital signs do not appear to be climbing into the shocked ranges.”  Tony makes an injured noise because <em> what a fucking snitch</em>, but to be honest, he’s a little relieved.</p><p>“Good.  Tony, where do you want me?” Steve asks lowly.  “You need me here, with Peter, or there, with you?”</p><p><em> Me</em>, thinks Tony, desperately.  <em> Me, come here, I need- it hurts so much, I’m so scared- me, please. </em>  “Peter,” he says firmly.  “I need- Can you, can you get closer, please?”</p><p>“Yes.  I’ll move to the front of the alley, under the light.  I’ve got him, Omega. Trust me. We’re going to handle this.  Everyone will be safe as bugs in rugs in four hours, trust me, Tony.”</p><p>“Three hours,” says Tony blankly, negotiating for better terms because he’s a <em> Stark</em>, that’s what he <em> does</em>.</p><p>“Deal,” says his Alpha, his- no, not just his Alpha, <em> Captain America</em>.  Captain America says three hours.  Tony can do three hours. His heart is thudding in his chest and his eyes are glued to the screen, but he can do three hours.</p><p>“Does this thing have night vision?” asks Harley suddenly.  “I hate staring at a fuckin’ dark alley. Can’t see if he’s safe or what the fuck’s going on.”</p><p>“Night vision,” repeats Tony.  “Oh. Yes.” He switches on the night vision from the remote control center and the world is abruptly ten times less safe.</p><p> </p><p>~~~</p><p> </p><p>“Steve, he’s got Peter by the throat, move in,” hisses Tony over Steve’s comm.  </p><p>Steve doesn’t swear, but he does leap ten feet forward, back toward the alley.</p><p>“No, he’s fine,” argues Sam’s voice, calm and assured.  “Kid’s not showing a single sign of distress. He’s, like, patting the guy on the back, even.  Guy’s not attacking him, looks like a comfort bite to me.”</p><p>Oh.  Steve slows his pace to a jog.</p><p>“Comfort bite,” repeats Tony, in that same hard, far-away tone that Steve knows and hates so well.  He hated it on Howard and he hates the way it sounds on Tony, too. “Yeah, okay, comfort bite,” agrees Tony.  “A comfort bite from a deadly assassin who may or may not have disintegrating ancient Soviet mental conditioning, that’s nothing to panic about.”</p><p>Steve speeds up just a bit, because Tony has a point there.  He’s at the mouth of the alley when Peter’s voice calls out to him, low and urgent, “Stay back.  Stay- stay back, Steve.”</p><p>Steve pauses, and holds himself there, on the left side of the alley, just underneath the ring of light from the streetlamp.</p><p>The assassin snarls and then winces, his hand coming up to touch his temple.  His <em> metal-gloved hand</em>, and that’s not great.  The guy’s whole arm is covered in what appears to be an Iron Man artillery sleeve, what- did Tony lose a suit at some point?  Steve takes a few steps forward and Peter glares at him, his eyes gleaming in the very dark dimness of the alley.</p><p>“I said stay back, Steve,” says Peter, and there’s actual anger in his voice, anger directed at Steve, and they are going to have <em> words </em> when they get home, pups do not talk to their Alpha like that, Steve doesn’t care if they are on a mission or at the beach.  He is having <em> words </em> with Peter.  Just as soon as the adrenaline stops coursing through him.  “I got it. Just, just stay there. No closer.”</p><p>The assassin shuffles his feet, weight shifting minutely, for a minute, and then Steve watches as Peter slides his hands cautiously, slowly, up the assassin’s body.  It’s too dark to see much, even with super soldier sight, but he can make out the image of Peter tugging the assassin’s head down for a kiss and it boils his blood because Steve <em> did not give that guy permission to touch his pup</em>, and Peter <em> didn’t ask </em> if he could kiss the guy.  Steve has to breathe through his nose, so he misses what the pup says to the guy, but that’s probably for the best.  He’s not going to kill Peter, but that’s because he’s got so many ideas in his head he’s having a hard time settling on what exactly he’s going to do to impress on the pup that Steve’s not <em> ready </em> for him to start kissing on strange alphas.</p><p>“Back out,” calls Peter, and who the hell does he think he is?  Steve breathes deeply because, actually, okay, Peter is the lynchpin of the plan, and it does seem to be working.  He can kill the pup later, after the assassin is safely contained. For now, it’s not a bad plan, to back up, to back away a little.  Give Peter enough rope to hang the guy. He steps back quickly, until he’s most of the way across the street, next to the lamp that is throwing light all the way to the edge of the alley.  “Let us come out. He wants, he wants to take me out, I think he’s talking about the alley. I want to- I’m going to let him.”</p><p>Steve watches the shadowy shapes, squinting through the light of the lamp, as Peter steps forward, in front of the assassin, and the assassin drapes himself, caveman style, all over the young omega.  His lip peels off of his teeth in a snarl because <em> that’s his pup, </em> but he’s a modern Alpha and he can wait to beat the man to a pulp until he’s got all the correct permission from all the correct authorities.  Which he will be seeking, immediately. <em> Peter </em> is <em> his</em>.  His comms are silent and he hopes to God it’s because Pepper and Thor have calmed Tony down and not because he’s freaking the fuck out and someone had to turn off the comms.  Harley’s been working a little on the suits, but Steve needs to know Peter’s emergency evac is being flown by Tony. He needs that, right now, so he believes it.</p><p>The assassin is walking unusually, like it pains him, his head ducked into Peter’s shoulder, arms wrapped tightly around Peter’s torso.  His feet land heavily, the steps erratic and at times interrupted by strange full-body twitching, but eventually the two of them are standing at the edge of the pool of light at the alley’s entrance.  They hang there, and Steve watches in shock as the alpha sways a little into Peter’s back. The guy must be worse off than they’d been thinking.</p><p>And then the assassin pushes them both abruptly into the light and Steve isn’t worried about the man’s health.</p><p>“Bucky?” he gasps, because it’s not possible, but there he is, there’s <em> Bucky</em>, there’s no denying that it’s him, look at his eyes, look at his face, his lips, that’s <em> Bucky</em>.</p><p>“Uh, yeah, Steve,” says Peter, and he’s using omegavoice, Steve notes with interest. Interest and a little spike of red-hot anger because <em> don’t you try that on me, boy</em>.  “Yeah, it’s our Bucky, our sweet Bucky, and I want to take him to my den, so, you just, you just stay there.”</p><p>Steve frowns and steps forward, making the younger man brace himself, and like the hammer falling on a gun, everything goes very, very wrong, very very quickly.</p><p>The assassin grabs Peter by the shoulder and sweeps his legs out from under him, forcing him to the ground in one swift move.  Steve barely has time to register that the move is classic defensive/protective before <em> Bucky </em>is throwing knives at his head and he can hear Sam’s voice over comms shouting, “Jesus, Nat, come back, something triggered the guy, get back, get back!”</p><p>Nat says quickly, into the comms, “Be right there, with the jet, still have to get the pick up, Sam.”</p><p>There’s a confusion of too-fast-to-catch movement and sharp, flashing limbs and unexpected knives everywhere.  Steve really wishes he had his shield and his armor-plated uniform right now, but he can only wish that for a split second because in the next one, Bucky is on top of him in a snarling rage.  </p><p>Steve gets in a few good kicks and a punch that’s perfect, until the guy slams him with a roundhouse kick to the face that leaves him reeling on the pavement.  He shakes his head, listening to the familiar sound of webshooters in action and the very unfamiliar sound of Peter crooning, “Shh, Alpha, he’s my Pack Alpha, shhh, I got you, I got you, stop struggling, those ropes are mine, right where I want you, Alpha, right where I want you.”  The little omega must be practicing that voice because it worms its way in under Steve’s collar and makes him flushed and tense and angry and soothed in a whirl of emotions. He stands, shaking his head again, and puts up his fists as he turns to face them.</p><p>The assassin is kneeling, his arms held behind him with webbing in a huge gob, and Peter is standing defenseless in front of him, stroking his face.  “Shh,” murmurs Peter. “Shh, you got me, I’m yours, Alpha, shhh.” His omega voice is so sweet and pure, thinks Steve in a little daze. So sweet and pure, the pup is so sweet.  Such a good pup. Give him anything he wants. Anything. Steve’s hindbrain offers up a dozen disgusting suggestions involving his knot but Steve doesn’t want to knot the pup. Steve has a mate.  Steve wants to knot his <em> mate</em>. </p><p>“Shh,” soothes Peter.  Steve, standing there listening, twitches, his fists dropping. </p><p>“Hey,” says Tony’s voice, sweet and low, in his ear-<em> over the comm</em>, Steve corrects- and Steve shudders.  “Hey, honey, come home. Bring them, let Peter handle the clone or whatever, but Natasha’s going to bring the jet to you, and then you come home, huh?  To our sweet little nest, you come here, I’ll go warm up the blankets, be waiting for you, come home.”</p><p>Yeah.  That’s what Steve wants.  Peter’s murmuring things to the other alpha, sweet things he shouldn’t- the pup shouldn’t know to say things like that, such sweet, nice things, shouldn’t have that voice, that damn omega-sweet voice, smelling like a bakery, he smells so good, with that damn omega voice.  He shouldn’t know that, though, shouldn’t smell like that or say those things, not in that sweet voice, he’s just a <em> pup</em>.</p><p>Steve wants his sassy mate, he wants, he wants so many things right now.  He doesn’t want to hit the other alpha, the guy’s on his knees, he’s down, he’s not a threat, but Steve wants- he wants- there’s things he wants, as Peter keeps crooning, thing he wants from <em> Tony</em>-</p><p>“Fuck, Steve, tell the kid to tone it down,” hisses Tony.  </p><p>“Tony says tone it down,” Steve repeats, licking his lips, staring at Peter in confusion.  Tone what down?</p><p>Peter nods and then shushes Bucky, shushes- is that Bucky?  That’s <em> Bucky</em>.  Holy shit, that’s <em> Bucky</em>.</p><p>“Bucky?” asks Steve, and then feels deja vu, because didn’t he just say that?  Before the, uh, the fighting?</p><p>The kneeling man looks up at him, face twitching through so many emotions, so quickly.  They hit Steve like ice pellets against his skin, watching the man’s face flicker through such a wild array of feelings.  “Oh, Bucky,” he whispers. “What’d they do to you?”</p><p>“Probably a clone,” Tony tells him in a warning tone of voice.  “Don’t get attached. Clone makes more sense.”</p><p>“Steve?” asks the kneeling man, finally, in a voice that’s like rusty gravel and every homecoming Steve’s never thought to pray for.  “Steve, you have to get him away, I’m not safe, please, Steve, they’ll make me, I’m tryin’ Steve but I’m not safe, please get him away.”</p><p>The kneeling man is struggling now, Steve can see that, can see how the man is struggling.  Peter loops another web around his form and holds him tighter and then shrugs apologetically at Steve and croons, full-throated, “Shhh, Alpha. Alpha, be good for me, be so good, come home with me, come back to my den.”</p><p>“Shit, I don’t think he’s a clone,” swears Tony in Steve’s ears and underneath the rising tide of desire, Steve agrees in something so close to panic. The adrenaline rushing through him almost overpowers the calm Peter is pressing through his skin and down to his soul with the words he’s crooning.</p><p>There’s the sound of a door opening and then a strange voice shouts, “Who the fuck are you people and what the fuck are you doing?  You know what? Nevermind, I’m calling the police.”</p><p>“We’re Avengers,” Peter calls back, which shakes Steve clear, that voice, that high pup voice so clear and free from the croon.  Bucky moans a little, slumping forward into his restraints just a little, his head on Peter’s thigh, Peter’s fingers caressing his filthy hair.  “This is a mission. Go back inside your home.”</p><p>“The fuck?” shouts the voice, angry now.  “You think I’m going to fucking believe tha-- oh my God, is that Captain America?”</p><p>Steve turns and shoots the man a shaky smile.  “Hello, sir, yes, Steve Rogers, pleasure to meet you.  We’re right in the middle of this, please go back inside where it is safe.  Call the authorities if you feel you need to.” Good enough advice, but close your door, fella.  You don’t want any part of any of this, he adds silently.</p><p>He can hear the jet’s near-silent engines getting closer and thank God, cavalry’s here.  He turns back to the two in the middle of the street lamp’s pool of light. Peter lifts Bucky easily, like he weighs nothing, and sets the man on his feet.  “On your feet, Alpha,” he croons. “On your feet, soldier. Back to my den, you said you would take me, you promised, Alpha.”</p><p>Bucky nods his head dully, chin dipped down low.  “Take you out,” he repeats. “Take real good care of you, doll, my solnyshko.”  Steve’s hands clench again, but he tells himself firmly that it’s Bucky, and Bucky’s Pack, and anyway he’s injured and he’s not a threat, okay?  He’s not a threat. He’s Pack. And he’s not threatening the pup, those weren’t <em> threats</em>.</p><p>“That’s right,” soothes Peter, and Steve is not looking forward to this mission debrief at all.  He’s not looking forward to it one bit, and it’s not even over yet. “That’s right, Alpha. Shhh.  Be so good for me, Bucky, Alpha, plane’s coming, gonna take us to my den.”</p><p>Bucky’s face flickers through expressions as Peter talks to him, too many strong emotions for the mind behind it to be sane.  Steve swallows, because there was a time he was Bucky’s Alpha. There was a time he could soothe the man, too, soothe him calm and collected.  He approaches slowly, alert to any sign of that homicidal rage. “Bucky?” he asks, cautiously, slowly, ready to back up, ready to let Peter keep his best friend calm if that’s what Bucky needs.</p><p>Bucky’s eyes roll over to meet his, off of Peter’s face and directly to Steve’s like a magnet.  He quirks a grin. “Steve,” he greets easily. “What’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?”</p><p>“Trying to help you,” says Steve firmly, over the hard beating of his heart in his chest.  He takes another few steps closer until he’s in arm’s reach, if Peter needs it.</p><p>“Oh, I got all the help I need right here, you smell this guy?” laughs Bucky, his Bucky, holy shit, inside there is his Bucky, somehow, “Damndest thing, don’t usually go for guys, never even thought to try a beta guy before, but damn, have you smelled him?  Sorry,” he adds, grinning down at Peter, and then his face flickers and goes cold, and he stares blankly at Peter. Steve feels a chill down his spine as Peter runs his hand through the man’s hair and croons, “Shhh, Alpha, treat me good, right? Take me out, treat me good?”</p><p>“Take you out,” agrees the cold voice of the Winter Soldier.  “Take you out before our cover is blown.”</p><p>“Not blown yet,” assures Peter, and Steve’s too close, that voice wraps around his spine in electric heat, makes him take a step forward.  Peter glances at him and there’s fear there, fear in his eyes, before turning back to the other alpha and saying, “And you took me out. Now it’s my turn, that’s fair, right?”  The jet is landing, Steve is aware, but all he cares about is why his omega is touching some other alpha like that. The pup shouldn’t, he shouldn’t touch any other alpha like that, he’s Steve’s pup.  <em> Steve’s</em>. </p><p>Natasha’s voice comes over the comms, crisp, “All right, let’s load him up, is he wrapped enough we can do this the easy way or do we have to coax him for every step, Steve?”</p><p>Steve tosses his head, which alarms the other alpha- Bucky, Steve reminds himself, it’s Bucky, and Bucky’s Pack, he’s okay, he’s not a threat- into snorting and taking a step back.  </p><p>“Yeah,” he tells Natasha, through clenched teeth.  “He’s wrapped tight.”</p><p>“Well, grab him, then, and load him, and Peter can sit on him and soothe him and you can throw in some filters and watch to make sure nothing happens,” says Natasha coldly.  It’s a ridiculously good plan and Steve approves and he is <em> so lucky </em> she’s his Pack second because he’s pretty sure he’d be losing his mind without a clear direction right now.  It’s <em> Bucky </em> and <em> Peter’s using omega voice</em>.  And fuck if Peter’s omega voice isn’t twice the strength of Tony’s and Tony’s, by all reports, took out ballrooms back when he’d first been debuted.</p><p>“Come with me, Bucky,” he tells the man.  “C’mon, soldier, let’s go.” He grabs the man and there’s a very short and abbreviated tussle that ends the way it always should end, Bucky’s throat between his teeth, Steve’s growl of dominance shattering the air around them.  Bucky sags in his defeat and Steve says, “Stay down, Bucky."</p><p>He tosses the man over one shoulder and barks at Peter, “Follow.  On the jet. Now.”</p><p>This mission debrief is going to be the <em> worst</em>.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Please feel free to shout out in the comments so I know you're okay.  I'll respond to everyone because I know feeling that human connection is important right now!!</p><p>Looking for a hit of this universe while you wait for me?!  Check out Orchidaexa’s Daredevil, Deadpool, and Spidey story, written in this AU:  https://archiveofourown.org/works/23073085</p></blockquote></div></div>
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